An Awful Thing
by JediShampoo
Summary: Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings. Love is an awful thing. Humor, romance and adventure. HxS, COMPLETE.
1. The Purse with a Curse?

**Title:** An Awful Thing

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall; may get saucier later, but I ain't promising nothin'.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**Chapter 1**

Clouds were certainly pretty, when seen from the ground. But not many people realized just how chilly and wet they were up close. This morning, though, Howl didn't mind. He stood on the slender little fenced balcony built to survey the countryside, and surveyed it, and let the passing white mist dampen his face and clothes. From up here, Ingary and its environs looked almost like another world.

Another thing most people didn't realize was just how many other worlds there were. Stepping into them was like diving into water sideways, except easier. Provided, that is, one was a wizard. And that one was a wizard who knew how to do it. Even fewer knew that, and it was a good thing, too. Just because it was easy didn't mean it wasn't dangerous.

In his time, Howl had visited several worlds. But he was happiest here, at home, in this simple land where Hatters were hatters and Smiths and Wrights built things, where magic was _real_.

Sure, there were other magical places. Worlds where a wizard could hardly sneeze without setting off some catastrophic magical reaction. But here in this world, magic was _just_ real enough. Real enough that people spoke of visiting their local witch or sorcerer like they might speak elsewhere of visiting the doctor: with respect, but not fear. Real enough to coexist happily with science, a place where a magical flying castle could employ gears and pistons enough to please any engineer, could be something ordinary and special all at the same time. And be a heck of a lot of fun, to boot.

This was a land of conservative and seamless incongruity, where daughters and sons still went to seek their fortunes, and where the eldest was always expected to mind the shop. Howl had been lucky enough to find a girl who, despite being the eldest of three daughters, had managed to crack a magical curse and to earn the love of the handsome prince.

Well, the handsome and talented wizard, anyway. Howl had met a prince, and knew that of the two of them, he himself was the much better catch.

Speaking of eldest daughters; behind him the door swung outward and Sophie threaded her way along the slim balcony to join him. He turned to watch.

Her eyes were closed, but she was not afraid of the walk or the height. She was merely breathing deeply, enjoying the nip in the early Fall air, same as he.

"What a beautiful morning, Howl. Up here especially." She shivered a little in the cold, but didn't lose her dreamy smile. "I've been out."

"Have you?" Howl asked musingly. He wasn't really listening to her words, just watching her, and watching her face as she spoke. She gripped the railing and opened her eyes, and as always they lit with pleasure at the sight of the mountain-rimmed lakes and fields, turned white and golden and red by the slipping-away of summer.

Her hand on the rail was slim and unadorned except for Calcifer's ring on her forefinger. They were not married. Yet. Sophie had turned out to be surprisingly stubborn and independent-minded, something one would not have thought considering her sweet and giving nature. But once her mother and sister had started asking those pointed questions-- when _exactly_ was the wedding to be, and shouldn't she _really_ be living with her mother and stepfather?-- Sophie had put her foot down and said that she would live where she liked and not be married until she was good and ready. And that had been that.

Not that anything precisely _improper_ was going on, anyway. Not _precisely_. And they had chaperones enough-- Wilhelmina Witch, Markl, even a dog: as real and complete a family as any man could wish. Howl eyed her fingers on the rail and the way the wind snuggled her pretty pink dress against her figure. His heart thumped a little against his ribs, startling him, but he enjoyed the still-newish sensation for a few moments. After all, he'd only had the heart back for a few short months.

He certainly wouldn't have minded a little _more_ impropriety-- but that was a subject for another time, so he resolutely forgot it, determined to enjoy the morning and the fresh air and the view while he could.

Why didn't she want to get married? _What would he do without her?_

Sophie flicked him in the shoulder with the hand he'd been watching. It took him a moment to realize she'd been staring back at him. "Don't you want to know where I've been?"

"Of course."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, but she continued. "Shopping. In Kingsbury. Do you want to see what I've purchased?"

"Of course," he repeated.

She waggled a finger at him. "Only if you stop saying that." Then she dug into the pocket of her dress and pulled out something shiny and palm-sized. She handed it to him. "It had a pretty girl on it, so I thought you might like it."

Howl could only stare at the item in his hand, unsure what to think. It was a change purse. The picture on it, picked out in pointillism with tiny crystals, was of a smiling blonde woman with improbably red lips and a suggestive white dress. She _was_ pretty. But there was something so very wrong with it, all the same. He just couldn't figure out what. He stared some more.

Sophie sighed, hurt at his lack of response, and took it back to hold it up in front of his face. She opened and closed it, and opened and closed it again. "It's supposed to hold money. There's a cunning little clasp, to keep your coins safe. I paid a very good price for it. I think," she said, looking unsure for a moment. She pulled the purse to her nose and sniffed it. "It does smell rather like sausage, though."

"Sausage."

"You don't like it."

"It's not that! It's just…where did you get it?"

"From a street vendor. He was such a strange man, but he had so many little trinkets, things I'd never seen before. I wanted to buy something, but I really didn't want any of the food he was selling--"

Howl broke out of his trance and grabbed her wrists, cutting her off. He'd just realized what was wrong with the little purse. It didn't belong here. And it stank of foreign magic more than it stank of sausage.

"Who was he? Do you remember what he looked like? Could you find him again?"

Her dark eyes widened. "What? Why? Yes, I could if I saw him. He was just walking around, not far from the Royal Square, but you know how I get turned around in Kingsbury--"

"We have to find out where this came from." Howl snatched the purse from Sophie's hand and used his other to drag her inside. He needed some of his books and magical accoutrements to deal with this one. He didn't think the horrible little purse itself was a spell, but that didn't mean it couldn't conceal one, or entrap him all the same. The fact that Sophie had bought it, and brought it to him-- it could be a coincidence. But then, it could also be the start of some nasty new episode, sent specifically to complicate his brand-new, peaceful life. If that was the case, then who could have sent it to him? Some other girl he'd jilted in his not-so-recent sordid past? A jealous rival? He was a new man, now, staid and faithful. He didn't _deserve_ this.

"Hey!" Sophie protested, slapping at his hand and dragging her bootheels, sliding on the slick-wet wood of the balcony. "Tell me what's going on! Do you recognize it? Do you recognize her?"

"No. But she's not from this world. Come _on_."

"Are you sure it's not an old sweetheart?" Sophie's voice was flat. Now she was prying his fingers from her wrist. She was succeeding, too. He released her arm and looked at her with eyes as wide and beseeching as he could make them.

"It's not! I just need to look at it more closely. Is Markl awake?"

Sophie just glared at him, unmoved. "Was it sent by one, then?"

_She was way too smart for her own good_, Howl thought. "No," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie. He didn't know for sure, after all. He just wasn't going to bring that up with Sophie, and risk upsetting the happy environment they'd managed to create between them. This blissful existence, where she _didn't want to marry him_. For a few moments he considered telling the truth about his suspicions, but ultimately decided he was too afraid. "Do you remember how I told you that you have to be very careful when you visit other worlds? That there's a reason why so few wizards do it?"

"Oh." Sophie's troubled expression cleared slightly as she realized that there might be a good reason for this inquisition. She sighed and stopped trying to pry herself free, and followed him inside. "I'll get Markl, then."

"That's my girl," Howl said.

**End Chapter 1. Chapter 2 to come soon.**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	2. Checking Things Out

**Title:** An Awful Thing, Chapter 2

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall; may get saucier later, but I ain't promising nothin'.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**Chapter 2**

Sophie sat, arms crossed, in one of the kitchen chairs and watched as Howl and Markl alternately flipped through books and tossed pinches of various magical powders at the little change purse she'd bought in Kingsbury. The kitchen was going to be a mess when they were finally done, and she'd have to be extra-careful when she cleaned, or else risk growing pink fur or something equally horrible.

And she'd thought it was such a _cute_ purse, too. Yet there they were, eyeballing it like it might explode at any moment and doom them all to a fiery death.

Of course, with Howl, that flaming end was entirely possible. She watched him as he bent over the table, black hair falling over his handsome face, long fingers curled beneath his chin. She loved him. But for someone who claimed he'd only ever wanted to be free, Howl had managed to collect some very dangerous enemies. She'd already had experience with some of them; in fact, one of them lived here.

Then, of course, it could be just as Howl had insinuated-- the purse could be dangerous merely because it did not belong here. They'd had that discussion before. Even the most innocent of trinkets, carried across dimensional borders, could infect a new world like germs. It could happen surprisingly quickly, too. In her mind Sophie pictured half the women of Kingsbury sporting bleached-platinum hairdos and white dresses, proliferating the style like a disease in the scant few hours or days the trinket-seller might have been here.

So perhaps it had been a good thing she'd bought it? Somehow, Sophie didn't think so. She had a sense of being deliberately misdirected, and it upset her. It was just that Howl, never one to really worry about what did not affect him directly, did not strike her as being completely altruistic in wanting to discover the purse's origins. _And everyone wondered why she hadn't married him yet! Or even..._ well, never mindShe'd thought that by waiting-- for everything-- she'd give Howl time to learn what it was like to have a heart. To be sure that this was what he wanted.

_Was love supposed to be like this?_ Sophie wondered. How could something that was supposed to be good and happy make her heart squeeze and ache alternately with euphoria, sympathy, pain, or even-- as now-- mistrust?

Calcifer, if he knew what was going on, stayed surprisingly silent on the matter. He merely hovered among his logs, sleepily watching all the activity.

"It must be for you, Master Howl," Markl said, blowing out a breath in frustration at their lack of progress. "Else you'd have been able to trace the magic by now, right?"

"We don't know that."

"Should I get Granny?" Sophie spoke up. She'd taken to calling the ex-witch Granny, because the old lady had never divulged her real name. Howl called her _Wilhelmina_ as a joke, but never to Granny's face. Sophie had tried to cure him of that habit, especially in front of the impressionable Markl. "Maybe she can clear this up. She's had experience with this sort of thing, after all."

"Not necessary," Howl said hurriedly. _Too hurriedly_, Sophie thought. "Wilhelmina needs her beauty rest, you know. And besides, I _told_ you."

"You're incorrigible," Sophie told him. But he'd turned his intense blue gaze on her, and his mouth held that perpetual and sensual little half-smile. The girl part of Sophie sighed inwardly, but the rational part of her gathered its wits. "Why don't we just go find that man again? I'd recognize him anywhere."

Howl sighed and dropped into another one of the kitchen chairs, limbs going loose with a _whoomph_. Then just as quickly he straightened. "Hey!" He'd seemed to have reached some sort of brilliant idea; his smile widened and his eyes narrowed. "You know, it's really not our problem. If he's in the city, then it's something the city needs to deal with, don't you think?"

"What a lazy way to think. I like it," Granny said as she waddled into the room, wrapped in her robe. She patted Markl on the head and leered at Howl. "I bet Madame Suliman would love to have a look at that thing."

Howl's cheeks went a little pink as he seemed to realize that he might have been overheard calling her _Wilhelmina_. But he looked thoughtful. "You know, you just might be right."

"You don't really want to go to _her_, do you?" Sophie asked. She shivered at the thought of facing that formidable old sorceress once more. She'd _never_ blamed Howl for avoiding her.

"No. But it's exactly the sort of thing she would want to handle. And then _I _can stop worrying about it."

Sophie felt her heart clench and ache again, this time with profound relief. If Howl was willing to see Madame Suliman, then this little magical item couldn't have involved him at all; he really _hadn't_ been hiding anything. She smiled. She knew it was a girly, besotted sort of smile, but she didn't care. _Oh, how she loved him!_ She should never have doubted him. These ups and downs were somewhat exhilarating, she decided. "I'll go with you!"

Howl turned the full force of his grin on her, and Sophie felt her ankles tingle. "Am I a lucky man, or what?" he said.

"Be sure and tell her hello from me," Calcifer said, and went back to cuddling his logs.

"And from me too," said Granny.

**End Chapter 2.**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	3. A Visit to Suliman

**Title:** An Awful Thing, Chapter 3

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall; may get saucier later, but I ain't promising nothin'.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed. Beta by Sharpeslass.

**Chapter 3**

Howl pushed back the branches of the hedge so that Sophie could step through. The boughs were old and strong, and it required a bit of physical effort that he wasn't used to exerting. And the leaves were a bit thorny. He hoped they wouldn't tear his nice shirt. He didn't dare use extra magic here on the grounds of the palace, however. The concealment spell he'd put on himself and Sophie for the trip here had been risky enough.

Sophie hopped through and gave him a nervous smile. She'd put on all her best clothes and dignity for the coming interview, but had seemed happy all the same when Howl had told her they'd be coming in through the back. This way, they wouldn't have to climb all the steps and be announced by every footman they passed. Howl grinned at her, watching her graceful movements, and admiring how her silvery hair went so well with her dark green dress. His heart gave that delightful little _thump_ again, and he considered giving her a little kiss of appreciation.

But they were here on business, and Madame Suliman was just where he'd known she'd be-- where she always was when she was receiving visitors; sitting in the indoor garden, surrounded by her loyal little matched blond apprentices. Howl had been one of those, once.

Suliman's expression was calm as he and Sophie stepped through the glass door and closed it with a little click.

"Howl. What a pleasant surprise," she said, with her most unreadable little smirk. But she didn't look surprised at all, and Howl was not surprised by her lack of surprise. "And Mrs. Pendragon. How lovely."

Sophie, bless her, was calm and collected and brave as she'd ever been. "My name is _Miss_ Sophie Hatter," she said, with a quick little ironic curtsey.

"Of course," Suliman said, still smirking. She turned her cool gaze from Sophie to Howl. "Where's my dog, Howl?"

"At home in front of the fire, I guess." His voice hardly quavered at all.

"Impertinent as ever," she told him. But she seemed truly amused. "Sitting on the lap of the Witch of the Waste, I suppose? I'm not sure you weren't better off without a heart. Yours is entirely too soft. How you _do_ collect misfits, Howl."

Beside him, Sophie stiffened and sniffed. Howl searched his mind quickly for a suitable rejoinder. _Damn Suliman._ The woman did love a good verbal sparring match.

"Not at all. _They_ seem to collect _me_." Howl immediately realized his mistake, but it was too late to retract the statement. He'd meant it as an insult to Suliman, but Sophie not only stiffened some more, she yanked her arm from his and crossed it with her other across her midsection.

Her point won, Suliman's expression took on a more businesslike aspect. "Now, what have you brought me?" she asked, and Howl had no time to explain himself to Sophie. He reached into a pocket and pulled out the little change purse. Suliman's eyes widened the tiniest bit. Then she stretched out a languid hand for it. She stared at it in her palm for a moment, then laughed. "How wonderful!"

She'd needed no explanation, just as Howl had known she wouldn't. He coughed. "Sophie only got it this morning. I bet you could still catch the man who sold it, if you hurry."

Suliman tossed it back at him, and by pure reflex, Howl caught it. _Stupid._ "Then you'd better start now, Howl," she said.

This was not what he'd planned. He'd been hoping to be rid of it, or that Suliman might take pity upon him out of guilt over that awful war she'd allowed to continue for so long. He should have known better. He tried his hardest not to whine as he said, "don't you think your minions might be better suited to clearing up this little problem?"

"Whether you realize it or not, you _are_ one of my minions, Howl."

Now she was just being nasty. Howl started to get a little angry. "I came here of my own free will. You did not summon me," he told her.

"Oh no? Consider yourself summoned, then. And dismissed."

"Now you wait just a minute--" Howl began, then he felt Sophie grab his arm again, with both hands, hard.

"Fine! We'll take care of this matter, and we don't need your help to do it," Sophie told her in a snippety little voice, goaded once more into defense of Howl by Suliman's amused nastiness. She started pulling on his arm. She yanked so hard that his shirt was now truly in danger. "Let's get out of here, Howl, and let's _never_ come back again! She can summon you all she wants. I will absolutely refuse to let you answer."

"Okay," Howl said, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible while being dragged backwards. He gave Suliman a saucy little wave, and then spun about to follow Sophie. Good for Sophie; she was heading for the front door, refusing to sneak out of here the way they'd come in. No scared little mouse was she. _Oh, how he adored her!_

But Suliman was not to let him go without a parting shot. "You really should marry that girl, Howl," she said, with a little laugh.

**End Chapter 3**

Sigh. It's short, but I'm not used to writing in chapters. They're really just POV changes; the rest of it's almost done. But I don't want to get ahead of my beta-reader. :) All comments welcome; thanks for your time!

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	4. Catching a Sausage Seller

**Title:** An Awful Thing

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall; may get saucier later, but I ain't promising nothin'.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**Chapter 4**

"Horrible woman!" Sophie said as she dragged Howl down the interminable steps. _Horrible_ _man_, she didn't say aloud. People in the square were staring at them, but she didn't care, so angry was she. She was going to stomp out her wrath on the cobblestones, and they could just enjoy the show. The only problem was, she wasn't quite sure where she was going. "Why don't you make yourself useful, Howl, and point me toward Regent Street? I'm sure that's where I was this morning."

"Sophie! What? Slow down," Howl said. She didn't have to look back at him to hear the laugh in his voice, and it only made her angrier. _She _was no misfit; she was going to take care of this, just like she took care of _everything else_. Love was such an awful thing. No wonder men sang about it and wrote poems about it and talked about it so much. They were all such idiots, love was the only chance they had of getting women to actually _be near_ them for any length of time.

"No! We've got to hurry," she said. _Stupid_, she didn't say aloud.

Sophie heard Howl give a long-suffering sigh. "Wait," he said, and twisted sharply, using her death-grip on his arm to swing her into a little side alley. He yanked his arm free and then grabbed her shoulders to give them a little jiggle. "Why are you mad at me? Surely you don't think I meant _you_? Do you?"

He wasn't even pretending to misunderstand her. Perhaps he was less stupid than she'd thought a few seconds ago, but that didn't make him even less a _man_. And he was so close now, it was distracting, and his eyes had that intent look in them, the one she couldn't stare into for long. She tried her best to stare back, and didn't speak.

"Do you?" Howl repeated. He was smiling again, and squeezing her shoulders, and her heart was pressing so hard against her breastbone that it hurt. Howl went on. "She _is_ a horrible woman. You _knew_ that. She'll twist your words until you don't know what you're saying, and no matter how clever you think you are, you always realize too late that you're completely out of her league. Why do you think I spent all that time running from her?"

"I know," Sophie sighed, reluctant to release her anger. Anger felt so good. It gave one a purpose, kept one from feeling so unsure and befuddled all the time. Things had been so clear a few months ago. Now she was in this weird limbo, where nothing she thought or did made sense, and the slightest word or event sent her off in these wild, spiraling directions. Love was an awful thing for more reasons than one. She couldn't think, not logically, when he was this close to her. And Howl was entirely too good at _being that close_. Sophie finally found her tongue again. "She just made me so mad! And then when you said that!"

"I know." Now he was leaning his forehead into hers, and kissing her nose, and his voice was so reasonable and sweet that Sophie's body turned boneless, sagging against the wall like she had no control over it, which she didn't. "And I meant her. But you-- you were wonderful! Fantastic!"

"Really?" Sophie managed to whisper, now feeling proud but pathetic at the same time-- how was that possible? It was because he was kissing her, lips so soft and coaxing, and her hands moved of their own volition to his chest, and it was warm and she could feel his heart thumping there, so alive and full of promise.

"Oh, yes," he whispered against her lips, with heated puffs of breath. "And wow, but you're pretty when you're angry. Pink cheeks look great on you."

"Oh! You!" Sophie said, and pushed at his chest, shoving him away from her. He only laughed, and Sophie felt the heat rush through her limbs and stain her cheeks and realized that she was still pathetic. But at least he'd allowed her to break that deliciously _uncomfortable_ moment. "Don't you think we really should find that man, at least?"

"As long as you're not mad at me," Howl said, stepping back.

"No," she said, and it was the truth. This up-and-down of emotions was wearing her out. "Regent Street?"

"Follow me," he said and took her hand in his. By the time they'd walked a few blocks she could let him do it with most of her equanimity intact, and could feel that her feet were on solid ground.

The streets were more crowded than they'd been this morning. They teemed with fish vendors from Porthaven and vegetable sellers from the countryside and all manner of shoppers winding among the stalls. Sophie began to worry that she'd never find the sausage-man again. He'd seemed to appear from nowhere this morning, approaching her and pressing his wares upon her as she'd gawked at the market. But then she heard a familiar call over the mumbling noise of the crowd.

"Sausages inna bun! Sausages!"

That's what the man this morning had said to her. Sophie tried to stand on tiptoe to peer over the crowds, cursing herself for not being taller. But soon she spotted the man's odd metal hat, and in the air next to it, his hand-held stick ringed with knobs and little trinkets.

"Howl, he's over there!" she said, and pointed in the direction of the voice.

Howl waggled his fingers and the crowd parted easily before them, people stepping aside and looking as if they were unsure they'd meant to. And there was the ugly, scrawny man from this morning, and his plate of sausages. Sophie caught a whiff of them.

"That must be him," Howl said. "I recognize that smell."

As if by some instinct, the man turned and glanced their way and in the same instant twisted and started to run, almost before Howl had completed his sentence. Sophie began to say, _Oh no_, but Howl had already let out a little whoop of delight and taken off after him.

The trinket-man was fast, Sophie would give him that. It was as if his scrawny, sickly-looking legs had learned long ago how to evade pursuit. And given his disgusting sausages and his nefarious magical dealings, it seemed he'd had a lot of practice.

But he was no match for Howl. Sophie went along for the ride and watched with some pride as Howl sped them onward so fast the crowd was a colorful blur. Soon they stood before the little man, and Howl had gripped his shoulder.

"We'd like to talk to you," Howl told him with a bit of a smug grin. "Please come with us."

"Don't wanna!" the man cried, eyes flickering like a trapped rabbit's in every direction, as if seeking help or a way out. Apparently finding neither, he screwed his face into a miserable, wheedling expression. "If I don't sell these sausages, I'll be broke! I'm cutting me own throat selling 'em this cheap, but I've got a wife and starvin' kids at home--"

"I'll pay you for the sausages," Howl said. "But you'll have to leave them here."

**End Chapter 4.**

**Does it suck? Catch anything wrong? Like it? Tell me! Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	5. Interrogation

**Title:** An Awful Thing

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall; may be higher later.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

And now, for some plot-advancing. Anyone read Pratchett? ;)

"Me name's Dibbler," the dirty little man said. He'd opened up quickly enough once he'd realized he was dealing with a wizard and a fire demon. He still looked a bit frightened, but his words and demeanor held a sort of quaint, greasy pride. "C.M.O.T. Dibbler."

"C.M.O.T.?" asked Sophie.

"C.M.O.T.," echoed Markl, screwing up his nose.

Howl couldn't blame the boy. The awful smell that had hovered about the man in the market hadn't only come from his sausages. He was so ugly that even Wilhelmina wasn't flirting with him. And he was sitting on one of Howl's nice kitchen chairs. Sophie would not be happy, cleaning this room later.

"Charles Marcus Ogden Thomas?" suggested Calcifer.

But C.M.O.T. Dibbler did not elaborate, just stared at all of them in turn.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Howl prompted. He wasn't used to performing this kind of interrogation. It was the sort of thing Suliman was best at, and he felt yet another twinge of annoyance at the way she'd refused to deal with the problem. And at how angry she'd made Sophie. Or rather, how she'd made him make Sophie angry at him. Or something.

"Nah. I'm just visitin'."

"Chop My Own Trees?" said Wilhelmina-- _Granny_, Howl reminded himself-- and cackled at her own wit.

"Carry My Own Things?" guessed Markl. The boy had noticed Dibbler's sign-pole hung with junk and his filthy satchel full of dubious treasures, and was sifting through them with round eyes. Howl caught sight of what looked like grimy candies, some gaudy fake jewelry, and other things he thought he should recognize, but didn't. There were little black boxes with glass circles in their fronts, and silver rings with pictures attached to them-- _hadn't he seen those somewhere before?_ and-- Howl turned back to Dibbler. Now was not the time to gawk.

"And you're from… where?" he continued.

"I'm from Ankh-Morpork," Dibbler told them, with a little smirk. "Greatest city in the world."

Howl did not know the place. That was unfortunate. He'd hoped it would be an easy thing to return the man to where he belonged, but it was starting to look like he might actually have to expend some effort to solve this little mystery.

"He's got magic all over him, Howl," Calcifer warned.

"I know," Howl agreed. The man was absolutely _covered_ in layers of magic. Dibbler was no wizard himself-- Howl would have known that instantly-- but somehow he'd managed to travel between worlds, and more than one, to boot. Howl pulled out the change purse, and waved it in Dibbler's face. "Can you tell me where you got this?"

"Cecil Max Oliver Thornton?" Sophie mused. Howl rolled his eyes at her, and she turned up her nose at him. But he saw her secret little smile. That was a good sign.

"I think I got it in a place called Lonnon," Dibbler said. He stuck out a disgusting tongue for emphasis. "I din't like it. It was smelly, crowded and dirty. And comin' from a place like Ankh-Morpork, that's sayin' something."

Howl had been to London, too, and he hadn't liked it much, either. Except for that one girl... Dahlia, or something like that. She'd been only too willing to show a new young wizard about town, though she hadn't really believed Howl was a wizard. London was not a place for magic; Howl had learned quickly to hide his nature. London was, however, a place full of very _fast_ young women...

_Whoa!_ Howl caught himself. He was a changed man, now, staid and faithful. Look how responsible he was being! He shook his head to clear it.

"Can you tell us more about Ank More Pork?" Sophie interjected. She gave Dibbler her sweetest smile.

Dibbler preened a little. "Like I said, the greatest city in the world. Can't believe you've not heard of it, you being _Pendragon, Wizard at Magic_ and all." He was quoting the new sign on the Kingsbury door at them. "On the Sto Plain? River Ankh? Home of Unseen University? Chock full o' wizards."

"Unseen University? Wizards?" Howl interjected. Now they were getting somewhere. "Did they send you here?"

"Uh. Not 'zactly." Dibbler looked discombobulated for a moment, and then he caught sight of Markl and Wilhelmina digging through his things. "'Ere! Don't you touch that!"

"Carries Much Odd Trash," Calcifer tried.

"It's 'Cut Me Own Throat,' damn you! 'Throat' for short, but only to me friends. Which I'll cut yours iffen you don't stop pawin' through me things!"

"Don't worry, Mr. Dibbler, we don't want to steal your wares," Sophie said. Howl hadn't noticed Sophie step away, but now he saw her returning with a glass of ale. She handed it to Dibbler with another of her wonderful smiles, and pulled up a chair to sit next to him. Howl was all in awe; he'd not been brave enough to get so close once they were inside. Sophie continued to butter the man up. "You're probably thirsty, and you've had a long day. Tell us more about your travels-- we're just not used to strangers, and we're curious."

Dibbler beamed at her, and leered. Sophie managed to look expectant and pleased as Dibbler gulped the ale. Howl's awe grew by leaps. It worked. Dibbler opened up amazingly.

"Well, young lady, I been a lot o' places lately. I went to this world full o' pink fuzzy things, but I din't like it there. That London, I din't like it, neither. Though as you see I got lots o' good stuff there." He gestured at his bag, which Markl had managed to quit violating for a few moments. Wilhelmina was still digging, but she was better at hiding her thievery. "There was a land o' giant trees, that was pretty. But I'm a businessman, as you see, so I picked up things here an' there. I was doing really well sellin' stuff in this town, especially. See, I got magical powers hangin' around outside the University. One morning I woke up feelin' all funny, and suddenly I could see all these black, hazy doors. So I walked through one of 'em."

_That's what they'd been waiting to hear_, thought Howl. Calcifer obviously thought so, too; he cracked his flames loudly in triumph. _Good for Sophie_! Howl sat and leaned closer.

Dibbler talked, and talked, to Sophie at least. And Howl and Markl and Granny and Calcifer listened. Apparently Dibbler was a sort of pariah in his own city, though he didn't say so in as many words. These other worlds through the black, hazy doors had offered him the business opportunity of a lifetime, the chance to sell things in places where people wouldn't chase him away with torches and swords. _At least not right away_, Howl thought, remembering the sausages.

But Howl was mostly unmoved in that respect. Dibbler couldn't stay here in Ingary, that was for certain, and someone so unlearned and uncouth could not be allowed to roam free through all those unsuspecting worlds. Howl was sure he could send Dibbler back where he belonged; that would be easy. Like tossing a stone into a lake. _Once he knew where the world was, that is._ But the rogue spell which had allowed Dibbler to see the doors-- that would have to be removed in this Ankh-Morpork. That Unseen University sounded promising in that regard.

Howl had a natural mistrust of organized wizard-dom. But he really had no choice in this matter. Surely there was someone there who would be willing clean up their own spells and ensure that Dibbler wreaked no further havoc on existence.

Howl stood and paced, causing Dibbler to halt his extended attempt to impress Sophie. They all looked up at him.

"You'll have to go back home, you know," Howl announced. Dibbler gasped in protest, and Calcifer emitted a short, evil laugh. Howl shook the purse at Dibbler again. "This might as well go, too. And all those other things on my table. We'll deal with the rest of the things you've sold after that's done."

"Don't wanna," Dibbler said.

There was more. Dibbler could not be trusted to seek magical 'treatment' himself. Howl shot an apologetic glance at Sophie. "I'm afraid I'll have to go with you. I don't see any other way."

"Then I'm going, too," Sophie announced.

_Sophie won't like this_, Howl thought. "No. I'm not sure yet where 'there' is." He gave her his most melting smile, hoping it would soothe her, while being entirely sure that it wouldn't. "Don't worry! I'll be there and back soon enough, and I won't get hurt. I promise."

"I'm not worried about your safety," Sophie grated out between clenched teeth. She stood, and shook her fists. "It's just-- that was my purse, I bought it, and if you think I'm going to let-- Oooooh!"

She stomped down the steps, turned the dial to yellow for Market Chipping, then whisked out the door and slammed it behind her.

Howl stared at the shut door for a few stunned moments. He'd not thought that Sophie would be happy at his leaving, but who would have thought she'd get _that_ angry? What was wrong with her lately, anyway? It seemed that all he had to do anymore was look at her funny, or merely look at her _at all,_ and she went all pink and snippy.

Howl's heart stopped for a moment at the awful suspicion that crawled into his brain. Maybe she was going to leave him. She didn't want to marry him, after all. _What would he do without her?_ Should he go after her? Everyone was staring at him.

All of a sudden he really, really, _really_ wanted to go somewhere and mope for a while. It had been ages since he'd had a good session of old-fashioned self-pity.

"Don't you worry, handsome. She'll be back," Wilhelmina said into the dazed silence. "At least she's not moping and sighing anymore."

Calcifer merely snapped his flames, in agreement or argument, Howl couldn't tell.

_Now, then, was apparently not a good time to have a mope himself_. Drama was a one-man show, anyway. Or one-woman, as the case may be. Howl looked at Markl. "You'll help me, then, I hope?" Markl nodded.

Howl sighed. _Fine._ He'd do the location spell for Ankh-Morpork, first. _Then_ he'd find Sophie, say goodbye. _Then_ he'd go to this University. _Then_, when this mess was taken care of, he'd indulge himself. He'd find a thundering rainstorm, and a nice mud puddle, and a few spare hours to be good and tragic.

Howl looked at Dibbler, intending to appear stern, but the best he could do was give an embarrassed shrug that said, _women_.

**End Chapter 5**

Thanks to those who have commented! It's appreciated.


	6. Sophie Hears Things

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 6

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall, but I'm considering other things. ;)

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

A silly part. And phew, I'm at least two chapters ahead of posting. I'm not used to writing this way! If you catch any continuity errors, I will blush and then thank you kindly.

xxx 

Sophie didn't go far. She sat just outside, on the steps, debating whether or not to bang her head against the iron railings. Why had she behaved like such a-- such a _child_? She'd rivaled her sister Lettie at her worst. When Lettie had been _ten_. And here she'd thought _Howl_ would be the one throwing tantrums in this particular household.

There had been no real reason for her to be angry. It was just… everything. The purse. This morning, she'd so looked forward to giving it to Howl, and seeing him laugh. Except he hadn't. It had only caused trouble. Then the visit to Madame Suliman, occasion enough to make anyone angry. Except she'd gotten angry at Howl. And then he'd just grinned at her and tried to kiss her out of her bad humor. And it had worked. How sickening was that?

It was not like he'd never kissed her before. But today-- all that emotion, and those weird melty feelings, all wound up in there. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

_That_ was the problem. It seemed that all she could do these days was stare at him, thinking the most outrageous things. And he would turn and see her, and look so-- so-- _smug_. Like he knew what she was thinking. But he never did anything about it.

And just now! She'd almost said, "think I'm going to let you go to other places alone?" Sophie held her hot face in her hands and tried to shiver out her embarrassment. Why shouldn't Howl go somewhere alone, if he had to? He'd run about as he pleased before she came along. True, he'd been in a lot of trouble and in the end, only Sophie had been able to help him. But that didn't mean she had to be _glued_ to him.

And he was being so responsible right now. Taking care of the situation himself. Sophie needed to take care of herself before she tried to tell everyone else what to do.

When one was at one's lowest, one had no choice but to be truthful. Facing the facts was hard. But Sophie had to face the sad fact that she had become insecure. She had all these feelings jumping about inside of her, and _she_ hadn't done anything about them. It was the waiting, _her_ decision, which had been the wrong one. She'd treated the last few months like it was a test of Howl's loyalty. Had it been really fair of her, to force her new-found stubbornness upon him, and see if he passed?

The naked answer to that was no.

Sophie sat up, and let the fall breezes cool her cheeks. She needed to apologize. She heard voices. They were coming from inside, through the cracked window.

Inside, they obviously hadn't turned the dial back to Kingsbury, because she could hear almost everything if she scooted a little closer. She wondered if they were talking about her, and felt her cheeks heat again at the thought.

"'Er name's Mary Lynn Monner, is what I heard," Dibbler was saying. "Bit o' all right, ain't she?"

"Mary Lynn Monner," Howl repeated. "Doesn't sound familiar. It's not helping. Besides, that's not where you're from. Sit still for a moment and let me draw this circle--"

They weren't talking about her at all, Sophie realized with either relief or ire, she couldn't decide. _Probably a bit of both_. They were talking about the purse, and Howl was working magic. Then she realized she'd come to her first realization too soon.

"Yer girlfriend, she's awful pretty, too," Dibbler continued. "Sweet little thing. Bags o' spirit."

Sophie heard Granny laugh, and Markl said, "what?"

"Girlfriend?" Howl asked.

"What else are you gonna call her, lover?" That was Granny.

"I call her Sophie," Howl replied, sounding distracted.

"If you're talking about Sophie, then of course she's pretty," Markl said. Sophie felt a wave of affection for the boy. It was quickly superceded. "_I _think she's prettier even than that other girl, Howl. The blonde one you brought here that one time. Boy, was she surprised when I came downstairs."

"I don't know what girl you're talking about, Markl," Sophie heard Howl say. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Of course. But you remember." Markl sounded exasperated. "The one who barged in and started screaming and yelling? The one who said she couldn't believe she'd let you sample her womanly charms? The one with the long blonde hair?"

"Oh, her. I need to concentrate, Markl. I don't want to talk about her right now."

"I'll just bet you don't," Calcifer interjected.

Howl snickered.

Sophie didn't want to listen to any more of this, but it was almost impossible not to. _The pigs._

Granny was speaking. "I think I know that girl. She came to me, all the way out to the Wastes. She begged me to teach her how to _hex_ you or something silly like that. She was a tramp."

"Uh huh huh," said Howl, in a shuddering sort of way, as if the thought of that girl after him with magic had terrified him beyond belief.

"I said, Honey, I do all my own curses. That's how I met your girlfriend there. Though I may have taught that girl something. A drink might help me remember."

"Hmph. Almost done," Howl said. Sophie heard a _poof_ of something magical working. "What a horrible old woman you are."

"Don't I know it."

"Sophie is too nice. She let you off easy," he continued.

"That, too." Granny laughed. Calcifer laughed. Dibbler laughed. Markl just said 'what?' again.

Sophie couldn't take any more of this. _Now_ she had a reason to be angry. They weren't only laughing at _her--_ that, that _tramp_ girl-- they were laughing at Sophie. And all the young women who'd ever had their hearts cut out and eaten by callous young men.

And Sophie was _not nice_. _Nice_ is what the old Sophie had been, the Sophie who'd stayed late at the shop and let all the other girls have fun. _Nice Sophie_ was the one who cleaned that man'_s_ castle and put up with his moods just because she couldn't bear to leave his side, couldn't bear not to look at his pretty face all the livelong day. And who told herself that she was being a good girl, waiting for just the right moment. What if that moment had already come and gone? Howl certainly never asked anything of her, just took her for granted.

And _that_ thought made absolutely no sense at all.

Sophie didn't care. She stood, and whipped around to face the door. She knew she still couldn't bear to ever leave him, but now at least she had a good excuse to go back in there and give him a whopping piece of her mind. _Clarity. _It would feel really good. And after that, she'd-- well, she'd see.

She opened the door. Howl, his back to her, was kneeling just outside a chalk circle drawn around 'Throat' Dibbler's chair. As she marched up the entryway, Howl began to stand, arms held out to his sides, blue shirtsleeves billowing.

"Howl!" she said.

He turned and looked at her and a myriad of emotions flitted across his eyes-- confusion, joy, and then dawning horror.

"Sophie-- you're back! I wanted to say-- wait-- Give me a moment-- No! So--"

Too late, Sophie realized that they had been in the middle of the location spell for Ankh-Morpork. Howl's hair was flying, and Calcifer in his grate was flaring blue. She tried to halt but she'd been stomping so hard she couldn't lose her momentum.

And Heen chose that moment to leap in front of her. The poor thing had probably been trying to help her to stop, but she tripped over him, falling right onto Howl and knocking them both into the circle and onto Dibbler's lap.

_My, he smells_, Sophie thought, and then everything went black and her stomach dropped to her feet.

An instant later, light returned-- a grubby grey light-- and she was sprawled on top of Dibbler and Howl, and they were all sprawled among the debris of a dirty alleyway.

"--Phie!" Howl said in a muffled voice. His face was buried in Dibbler's greasy shirt.

_Ooops_, Sophie thought, as she smacked Dibbler's groping hand from her bottom and scooted back into a sitting position on the cobbled ground.

Howl crawled next out of the pile and sat across from her, propped back on his hands, staring at her with wide eyes peeping from beneath his mussed black hair. Neither of them spoke. They both turned as one to watch as Dibbler righted himself. He sniffed the air. From somewhere nearby Sophie heard an aged voice cackle, _Buggrit! Millennium hand and shrimp!_

Tears formed in Dibbler's eyes. "Home!" he said, and leaned over to kiss the ground.

Sophie couldn't help it. The emotion _would _come out of her, involuntary as a sneeze, whether she wanted it to or not. She laughed, and laughed, until tears trickled out of her own eyes.

Howl just stared at her, mouth agape.

"I'm sorry-- _snort_-- Howl," she said between wracking giggles that made her stomach hurt. "But it-- _snort_-- looks like I forced you to take me along after all!"

"You frighten me sometimes," Howl told her after a moment.

"Good," Sophie said, and laughed and laughed.

**xxx**

**End Chapter 6**

Thanks muchly muchly for any comments:)

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	7. Adventure in Ankh Morpork

**Title:** An Awful Thing, Chapter 7: Adventure in Ankh Morpork

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall. Averaged out.

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

Some gooey-ness, and some action. If you're confused about any of the Ankh-Morpork characters, I'll be happy to clarify. :)

**xxx**

_Well_, Howl thought, _here they were, it seemed. _Ankh-Morpork, the 'greatest city in the world.'

It didn't look all that fabulous. Admittedly, they probably weren't getting the best possible view of the city, roaming the rat-warrens of back alleys as they were. Even so, the place was a bit more grimy and lived-in than any city Howl had visited in Ingary. The people on the street pretended to ignore them, but unseen eyes watched them from behind every pile of trash and every dingy-curtained window. They were eyes that assessed the strangers and wondered how much money they were carrying, how much their clothes might be worth, and how easy or not it might be to take those things from them. Yes, this was a city with teeth.

Howl wanted to get to this Unseen University as quickly as possible. He wanted to be rid of Dibbler. And he wanted a bath. Not necessarily in that order.

But he'd bespelled Dibbler to head for the University, so they had no choice but to follow the strange little man on his circuitous route. If Howl wasn't so confident in his own magic he would have thought that Dibbler was deliberately trying to get them lost.

Sophie didn't seem to care. She had a firm grip on Howl's hand, and was tripping along beside him with a smile on her face and a jaunty step that sent her silvery hair bouncing about her shoulders. Howl tried to see what she might be seeing, to see what was so wonderful about the smoky-grey walls and laundry and the shuffling, evil-looking denizens of this place, and couldn't fathom it. Really, if she wanted to see other worlds, he knew of some better ones they could visit.

And he suddenly remembered that he'd never offered.

She looked, happy, though. When she'd burst back into the castle there had been murder in her eyes. Now might be a good time to find out why.

"Soooo..." he said, drawing the syllable out very carefully and tentatively. "What were you going to say, before the...uhh...spell went wrong?"

Sophie didn't even look at him, only shook her head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it right now."

That only frightened him more. Howl strongly suspected she was aware of this fact.

"So. Do you like it here?"

She shook her head again. "It's awful. But I'm glad I saw it. It's different. The sky is even different, I think."

_That would be the pollution_, thought Howl. They didn't seem to have motorcars or those little flyers here, but a shroud of humidity mixed with greasy fire-smoke hung over the city like a wet, stinky blanket. Howl coughed.

"Um," he began again. "I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye."

"I know that. Let's just finish this and get home." Her voice was almost sing-song-y, and yet hard-edged and spooky at the same time. This Sophie was one he'd not yet seen. It was mysterious. He decided he liked it. It was kind of exciting.

Howl slipped his hand from Sophie's to curl his arm around her waist and pull her close to his side. She didn't object. And she felt great. She squished against him in all the right places. He also discovered that if he leaned over just _so_ as they were walking, he could sort of see down the front of her green dress.

Howl decided that he'd had enough of being _completely_ responsible for one day. He was on an adventure, and he had a pretty girl at his side. An increase in noise, the chattering of hundreds of voices, signaled that they were reaching a more populated area. Sure enough, ahead he could see the alley oozing through a narrow gap into a crowded market-type square. But there was nobody right _here_.

"Wait a bit," he said, and slowed his pace. Sophie, glued to his side, had to do the same. He took a couple of steps backwards until his rear end hit a wall. _Oh well, he was already filthy._ "We'll finish this business soon enough."

"Not if we lose him."

"We'll find him again. He'll be all right," Howl told her, and circled her waist with his other arm. She smelled wonderful, a little circle of fresh air in the nasty atmosphere of Ankh-Morpork. And she was all warm from their walk. He found it terribly erotic. So he leaned his head down to kiss her.

Sophie gave him a chaste little peck, then looked up at him with narrowed brown eyes. "Two alleys in one day," she said in an odd voice. But she didn't pull away.

"I'm a lucky man," he told her, but it came out sounding more like "_ma morf mn_" because he hadn't even waited to speak before kissing her again. And this time she didn't stop him, but freed her arms from her sides to wind her little hands in the hair at the back of his neck. Her fingers tickled. It was marvelous.

And this kiss was decidedly less chaste. Her lips were open and Howl could taste her breath and the inside of her mouth. His heart was a frightening thing sometimes. It was stretched so tight he thought it might burst, but it did cause such a lovely rushing of the blood through his ears whenever he kissed her.

Sophie's fingers in the collar of his shirt were magic. His arms and legs didn't exist; he might as well slide down the wall, boneless, taking her with him. Well, not _entirely_--

"Help!" a cracked voice cried from somewhere, trying to intrude upon Howl's ecstasy. "Watch! Help! I bin kidnapped!"

_That was Dibbler_, one part of his brain said. _So what,_ said another.

But Sophie jumped back, hair flying as she whipped her head about, looking for the voice. "That was Dibbler!" she said, then set her hands on her hips and gave Howl an accusing look. Her cheeks were pink. She looked amazing. "Howl! Pay attention! Didn't you silence him, at least?"

"I…" Howl shook his head to surface from his haze. "I-- well-- I didn't think it would matter if he talked!"

Sophie rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. "Come on, before we do lose him!"

They ran, soon reaching the end of the alley. They stopped for a moment, and Howl surveyed the crowded square with some dismay. Dibbler had stopped yelling and at first Howl couldn't-- wait, there was a bit of his own magic, right _there_. Howl waved his finger, trying to use his most inconspicuous spell. The crowd parted slightly, and Howl saw Dibbler's back, his feet flapping behind it with surprising speed. He was heading for a-- well, it _sort_ of looked like a man-- wearing a battered metal helmet and breastplate and a pugnacious expression. Howl took off after Dibbler, flicking a silencing spell on him for good measure.

At first Howl thought the spell had gone a little wild, because the ambient noise level in the square dropped considerably. But as he and Sophie ran, he began to realize that people were just turning about, trying to see what was going on.

Dibbler reached the man and looked like he was trying to stop, but he only slid, veering off in another direction. He ran away slowly, like he was underwater.

_That_ would be Howl's other spell doing its work, the directional spell he'd put on Dibbler when they'd arrived in the city.

"Throat?" the sort-of man, the watchman, called after Dibbler's back, pulling something small and damp from between his lips and sticking it behind his ear. "Where you been? Where you goin'? Oo'd wanna kidnap you?"

Howl sighed and flicked a confusion spell at the… man, then swerved to follow Dibbler.

"Whass goin' on? Was that Throat Dibbler? Where am I? Watch! Help!" the watchman yelled, running in circles. Howl realized that he'd probably not chosen the best spell to use at that moment, but there was no time to worry about it. Now people were standing and staring in earnest. They had to get out of here, find Dibbler--

And Howl suddenly he realized he was running straight towards a stone wall. He skidded to a stop, but Sophie wasn't so lucky. She kept going. Howl winced, and his heart stopped. The wall _caught_ her.

"'Ere! Wot's all dis, den?" the wall asked.

Howl saw the massive rocky arm about Sophie, and looked up. And up. And up. A regular _mountain_ of a thing was glaring at him with unreadable onyx eyes. And it was wearing a massive breastplate, and holding the largest crossbow Howl had ever seen.

"Nuffink to see here, move along," the mountain said to the crowd, which ignored him completely. Then it turned back to Howl and said, "You! Halt! In de name of de law."

"Izzat Sergeant Detritus? Help me, you stupid troll! I'm over 'ere!" Howl's earlier victim was still spinning and yowling.

A troll? Howl waved a hand at it, trying to get it to drop Sophie. Nothing happened.

"Why you wavin' your hand like dat? What you do to Corporal Nobbs?" Its eyes narrowed to hard, dark jewels. It lifted its arm, taking Sophie with it. Her brown eyes were frightened, and she let out a little yelp, of pain or fear, Howl couldn't tell, he was so panicked. The market area froze in a crystal moment; the odd clothing on the people and the strange statues with the heads of animals popping up through the throngs like mountains above the clouds. Everything was picked out in utter, terrifying clarity.

"Don't hurt her! I give up," Howl said when he could breathe again, and raised his hands.

**xxx**

**End Chapter 7**

Thanks for reading! Please comment, tell me if you like or hate it. I can take it.

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this, it is purely for fun.


	8. Pseudopolis Yard

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 8: Pseudopolis Yard

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall, averaged out I think

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

Yet another chapter already. God I love Howl. And so for some more silliness. Hey, in Discworld, you can hardly avoid the silliness. If you're confused about any of the Ankh-Morpork characters, I'll be happy to clarify. :)

**xxx**

Sophie shifted her bottom and stretched her legs, trying to make herself comfortable in the Ankh-Morpork City Watch wagon as it carried them to the Watch headquarters in Pseudopolis Yard, wherever that was. But it was difficult to find a position that didn't make her teeth rattle. The wagon bounced and jerked as it rolled along the cobblestones, and her side still ached from running into their captor.

The interior was dim but Sophie could see Howl, sitting somewhat across from her on the hay-littered floor of the wagon. His arms were crossed against his chest and he was gritting his teeth.

"I could get us out of here, if it wasn't for the troll," Howl told her for the third time.

"I know you could." Sophie sighed and looked at her bound wrist. A chain fastened to the band around it ran through a window-slit in the side of the wagon. The other end was fastened to Sergeant Detritus, the troll in question, who stomp-jogged alongside the wagon. The watchmen had quickly deduced Howl's weakness-- Sophie-- and taken steps to be sure their sorcerous prisoner didn't escape. The enormous sergeant peeped a black eye through the opening now and then to make sure Howl wasn't trying anything wizardly.

One of the wagon wheels dipped into a particularly nasty rut. The wagon jerked and went airborne for a second, and then all four wheels slammed onto the cobblestones. Sophie flew into the air and crashed as well, sending her legs all askew and twisting her arm against the window. "Ow!" she said, trying to right herself.

Howl crawled over to help. "Are you all right?" he asked as he twisted on the chain at her wrist, trying to disentangle her. He examined it for a few moments, blue eyes dark and intent in the dimness of the vehicle. "I bet I could get this-- ah!" He sneezed. The contents of the floor had gone flying along with everything else in the cart, and a thin layer of dust and hay was floating down upon them.

Sophie sneezed as well.

"Hey, you in dere! Sit down! I's watching you!" Sergeant Detritus called through the opening.

"Is it okay if I see to my girl?" Howl asked in a somewhat smarmy voice.

The hole in the wall was silent for a couple of moments. Then the sergeant said, in a less rocky tone than before, "I don' want the lady ta git hurt, Mister. But I can't has you escapin'."

Howl sneezed again, and bits of hay shook down from his hair onto his face and into the neck of his blue shirt. "Rrrrrrr," he growled, and swiped at his face. Her vain Howl hated to be dirty.

"I'm all right now," Sophie called through the hole.

Howl plopped back down onto the floor and crossed his arms again with a huffy gesture. "Mud puddle," he said, and sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing," Howl said. His perpetually-smiling mouth was curled into a snarl.

Sophie wanted to laugh at the nonsensical statement, and at his petulant expression, but didn't. She could see Howl was working himself into a real snit. He'd work himself out of it soon enough.

She herself wasn't even angry anymore. A little sore, but not angry. Despite being arrested she was having an adventure. She'd have thought that being turned into an old lady and back and fooling around with missing hearts and fire demons would have been adventure enough for any quiet girl, but apparently that wasn't so.

No, the anger she'd felt at what she'd overheard was gone. Men were mostly idiots and that's all there was to it. Howl was perhaps smarter and more of a challenge than most, but she'd known that when she'd fallen head over boots in love with him. She'd been through too much on his behalf to ever not hopelessly adore him.

And the girly, besotted part of Sophie thought he looked really tempting with his hair all mussed and hay sticking out of it and his lower lip jutting out. _All those back alleys_, she thought dreamily. Some of that dreaminess must have come out in the grin she directed at him. Howl glanced at her and then resolutely turned away, but she saw the corner of his lip quirk up in a smile.

The Sophie she'd been earlier today would have gotten all flustered at that. But the Sophie she'd been earlier today seemed like ancient history, the _nice Sophie_ who hadn't known what she wanted. This Sophie wanted _Howl_. And she wasn't going to give him up, not to any number of tramps.

The sounds of running feet and clanking metal began to filter through the slats of the wagon sides. The rocking motion stopped with a jerk, and a few seconds later that little Corporal Nobbs opened the back door.

"You come with me," he told Howl, watching him with a wary eye. "Sergeant Detritus will take care of the lady. Don't try nothin'."

Howl scooted out and shook his clothes out with a grimace, but watched carefully as the Sergeant unhooked Sophie from her shackle. Soon they both stood in a stone-walled courtyard, surrounded by-- Sophie couldn't call them all men, because they weren't-- beings, perhaps-- of all shapes and sizes. All of them wore those metal breastplates and helmets. Many were staring at Howl and Sophie and their captors. Sophie gawked right back at them. Some of the watchmen looked like _dwarves. _One of them wore a leather skirt and lipstick, so it seemed there were watch_women_ dwarves as well. Sophie was impressed.

There was also a giant man made of clay, and what looked like a gargoyle, and was that an _orange ape_ coming through the gate? In Ingary, people that looked like that had probably been bespelled, and they tended to go off and hide in the Wastes. Like she had. Here, they all worked together.

Sergeant Detritus nudged her in the back with his giant rocky fist, but gently. Sophie stopped staring like a yokel and walked.

They were led inside an old wood-and-stone building and up a stairway that barely accommodated the giant Sergeant Detritus, and soon they stood in an ordinary-looking office. A man stared at them dolefully from behind a pile of papers on a desk. Corporal Nobbs saluted.

"Report, Corporal," the man said, and sighed. He was about the age Sophie's father would have been if he'd lived. He had a little painting of a sturdy-looking, smiling woman holding a baby on his desk. His lined face was harried but not unkind.

Nobbs handed the man a crumpled-looking piece of paper. "Sir, I wanted to bring this to your attention, as it seemed like a special situration. We nabbed these two, that is, Sergeant Detritus and myself apprehended these two suspects in Sator Square, sir. Mr. C.M.O.T. Dibbler was running and yelling as how these two 'ad kidnapped him, if that ain't the craziest thing anyone's ever heard. I mean, surely as soon as anyone sane'd captured Throat Dibbler they'd throw him back."

The man at the desk closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nobby, get on with it," he said.

"Sorry, Captain Vimes, sir." Nobbs straightened and took a breath, and then launched into something that sounded more rehearsed, as if he'd memorized it along the way. "We deduced male suspect, Mr. Pendragon, was wizard as suspect attempted to subduce me, Corporal Nobbs, by means of magic even though suspect did not appear to be wizard, i.e. as did not have pointy hat, was groomed, and accompanied by this woman of the female persuasion. Sergeant Detritus was unaffectated by the magic and suspects did surrender at that time. I asked male suspect whether he was wizard from Quirm and suspect said yes, though we do not believe him 'cause of him not having Quirmian accent."

"Is that it?" Captain Vimes asked.

Nobbs shuffled for a bit, then said, "yessir."

The captain looked at Howl. "Are you from Quirm?"

"No," Howl admitted.

"And are you a wizard?"

"Yes."

Vimes steepled his forefingers in front of his mouth for a moment, then seemed a bit horrified at his own motion. He flattened his hands on the desk. "Tell me your side of the story."

Howl put on his most innocent and earnest expression, and gave Vimes a somewhat more coherent version of their adventure, starting with the purse and their capture of Dibbler, and leaving out the parts about Madame Suliman and the spell Sophie had botched, as well as the little interlude that had caused them to lose Dibbler. For which Sophie was grateful.

Vimes leaned back in his chair. "And where is Throat Dibbler now? Why didn't you bring him in, Nobby?"

Corporal Nobbs looked somewhat abashed. "We couldn't find him, sir."

"That's because I-- ahem-- put a spell on him to head for Unseen University. He's probably there even now," Howl offered, trying to look contrite but helpful at the same time.

Vimes stared at them for a few moments. Sophie heard a _thump_ at the door, and something that sounded like a muffled '_ook_.'

"Wait yer turn, Special Constable Librarian," Detritus growled from behind Sophie. "We is busy."

"So," Vimes said, still staring intently at Howl. "Where are all these things Dibbler had-- the things you said you were bringing here with you?"

"Um," Howl said.

"They were sort of left at home," Sophie volunteered, speaking up at last. _Why hadn't they realized that earlier?_

"I've got this," Howl said, and pulled out the sparkly little purse. He showed it to Captain Vimes, girl side out.

"_Oook!_" Another thump on the door.

"Pretty gal." Vimes sighed again. Oddly, Sophie liked him. "Let the Special Constable in, Detritus," he said. "I think he's probably got something to do with this."

Sophie turned as the door opened and was only a little surprised to see the orange ape from earlier knuckle his way into the room. _My, he's very large up close_, she thought. It was very cramped with all of them shoved in there.

"Ook! Ook ook," said the ape. "Ook."

Vimes nodded as if he'd understood every _ook_. "And is Throat Dibbler there, too?"

"Ook."

"Well," Vimes said, turning to look at Howl and Sophie again. "It looks like you're off my hands, for which I'm grateful. Seems Archchancellor Ridcully up at the University wants to see you."

"Sir! These are criminals and furriners!" the corporal cried. Sophie figured Nobbs had probably wanted to see Howl in loads of trouble. He was holding a grudge over that confusion spell.

Vimes waved a tired hand. "Wizards aren't my department. And that's where they were headed, anyway. I think we can leave them safely in the-- er-- hands of Special Constable Librarian. I take it you'll go quietly?" This last was said to Howl.

"Yes?" Howl told him.

And so they were freed, at least into the custody of the orange ape, Special Constable Librarian. Who didn't try to shackle Sophie, which was a plus.

"I'm sure they've already forgotten their new rules about unauthorized magic. Wizards are like that," Vimes told them as they went out the door. "But I suggest you be careful, all the same. If you want to finish a job, you have to keep your mind on it." His voice held a smile.

**xxx**

**End Chapter 8**

**Thanks muchly muchly for any comments:) They really do make my day.**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this; it is purely for fun.


	9. Is it a Spell or Not?

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 9: Is it a Spell, or Not?

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall, averaged out I think

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**A bit more of the silliness. Is there a spell on that purse? If you're confused about any of the Ankh-Morpork characters, I'll be happy to clarify. :)**

**xxx**

_Well, that was a stroke of luck_, thought Howl, as they followed the Special Constable Librarian through the streets. Wizards he could deal with. At least, he thought he could deal with them a lot more easily than that troll. _When he'd thought the thing was going to crush Sophie…_

Thinking of Sophie, he glanced down at her, walking at his side and once more gripping his hand. She wore that mysterious little smile, again. It was unnerving. It was arousing.

"Ook!" said the ape-constable-librarian, looking back at Howl with an accusing eye.

"We're coming," Howl said, and picked up his pace once more. The librarian, now-- there was a wizard with a nasty spell on him if Howl had ever seen one. The spell probably could have been lifted, quite easily in fact, but the ape wore it with pride, self-perpetuating it even more aggressively than Sophie had her old-woman guise.

Then his brain woke up. _Unauthorized magic_? By heading to the University, was Howl letting them in for more trouble? Surely, he thought, this Archchancellor Ridcully would be grateful to them for returning Dibbler and pointing out their rogue spell. Not all the people here in Ankh-Morpork could be as crazy as Dibbler and Corporal Nobbs, after all. Captain Vimes of the Watch had been pretty understanding. All things considered. Though what had he meant about Howl keeping his mind on the job? Why else were they here?

Sophie was humming, one of the slightly vulgar songs she'd learned from Calcifer. Howl grinned down at her quite stupidly. _Oh_, he thought.

Well, he couldn't help it, today of all days. Sophie shopping for him, bringing him that horrible little purse. All the responsibility. Sophie's fearlessness and excitement at their small misadventure, and her no-nonsense attitude. Howl imagined that it held an expectant edge. Something had changed between them, and all he knew was that he found her more irresistible than ever, and was even more terrified of losing her.

"I knew it would all turn out," Sophie told him with a grin. He grinned back, again quite stupidly. "Things always do for you, Howl. You are a lucky man."

"I am. But they haven't turned out yet," he warned.

Then a chorus of feminine giggles drew his attention. Just ahead of him the ape-librarian was weaving through a crowd of men shuffling aimlessly about before a grand building.

Actually, grand wasn't the word for it. _Gaudy_ was a bit more apt. This section of street and close-set buildings was decorated with a cheap-looking gilt, little gleaming cherubs perched on every lamppost and stair-landing. One building in particular was painted a blinding white-- a somewhat startling sight in the hazy-sunset atmosphere of Ankh-Morpork-- and its many windows were hung with wine-red curtains and scantily-clad women. "Guild of Seamstresses est. 1723" was picked out in shimmering gold paint on a sign in front of the building.

_Seamstresses?_

Now Sophie was slowing to gawk, eyes drinking in the garish sights. The ape _ooked_ at her. Howl pulled at her hand, trying to draw her onwards.

"_Howl?_" The high-pitched shriek drew everyone's attention. Howl caught sight of a tumble of blond hair out a window on the second floor of the Guild of Seamstresses. His heart froze with terror. "Howl! I'd swear that's him. Hey, come here, you!"

Howl could see that Sophie's brown eyes were now _very_ wide and interested. The voice shrieked again, scratching like fingernails on Howl's soul. "_Howl_! Don't you dare ignore me! I know it's you, even with that black hair! Get back here!"

Howl was saved by Special Constable Librarian, who with an _ook_ of annoyance loped back and grabbed Sophie's hand, pulling her forward. Howl was forced to pick up his pace and follow, lest he lose hold of Sophie. They quickened to a run, a run that took Howl ever-thankfully away from the Guild of Seamstresses and the danger that lurked there. _How had that woman--?_

_"I think I may have taught that girl something_," Wilhelmina had said, only earlier today. When they got back to the castle, if they ever got back, Howl would have another long talk with the horrible old ex-witch. He'd bring lots of liquor.

He peeped at Sophie, carefully, expecting to feel the force of her anger, to see the hate in her eyes, to accept the sinking feeling that he'd lost her for good. To his utter amazement, she was laughing as they ran.

"That girl _is_ a tramp," she said, smugly.

"Um," was all Howl could think to reply. Some intelligent bit of his brain spoke up over the fading panic, telling him that it was best not to pursue the matter further. So he didn't.

After a bit, the ape slowed in the growing crowds. In the near distance Howl could see a sprawling, bricked complex of buildings, culminating in an impossibly-tall and oddly-curved tower that lurked above the city in the fading light. Only years of ambient magic could have created something that bizarre-looking, and Howl knew they'd reached Unseen University.

The courtyard through the next gate was crowded with men wandering about carrying books and skulls and wearing pointy hats. Wizards, then, as Ankh-Morpork knew them. The men all had beards and ranged in age from teenager-ish to ancient, based at least upon the beard size and color, which ranged from scraggly brown to full, bushy white. Nearly all of the wizards had scrawny legs peeping from beneath robes of varying dark colors and foodstain patterns. And most of the wizards had pot-bellies.

_No wonder the watchmen had been surprised by him_, Howl thought. _He bathed._ This was a land of complacent and socialized wizardry. A far cry from Ingary, where any new wizard was usually good-looking, and might be friend or deadly rival. In Howl's case, it had usually been the latter. The other wizards here gaped back at him just as interestedly, and Howl told himself to be wary.

"Ook," said Special Constable Librarian at Howl. Strangely, he was starting to understand the ape's special language. He was pretty sure that had meant, _stay close or you'll get lost._

So they did, and it was a good thing. Inside the building was a labyrinth of passageways and doors even more confusing than the back-alleys of Ankh-Morpork. After several stairways they eventually reached a door marked "M. Ridcully, Arch."

Sophie squeezed Howl's hand and gave him a hopeful smile. He really _was_ lucky, Howl thought, especially after their run-in with that girl whose name Howl couldn't even remember. Then he remembered he'd vowed to forget that girl completely.

The ape scratched at the door and knuckled his way in, and Howl and Sophie followed, and Sophie gaped some more. The round room somewhat resembled Howl's bedroom, except for the bed, and except for the animal heads mounted on the walls and staring at them with dead eyes, and the well-oiled rifles hung next to them. But there was a cluttered couch, a few skulls dripping with wax, and a stuffed alligator hanging from the ceiling. It was all very wizardly, if the wizard in question was a big-game hunter in his spare time.

An old wizard with a combed beard sat behind a huge desk. And Throat Dibbler sat in a chair in front of it, knees knocking with fear.

"Ah, come in, come in, Mr. Pendragon. And you, young lady," the old wizard stood and said in a hearty, booming voice. "Always good to meet a wizard from another world, what? I think you must be very powerful. I'm Mustrum Ridcully, and I believe you know old C.M.O.T. Dibbler, here. And I believe you have an item to show me?"

The old wizard was a knowing one, Howl would give him that. And he was certainly cleaner than the other wizards he'd seen here, excepting the Constable Librarian. Howl gave the man a little bow and pulled the purse from his pocket once more, laying it on Ridcully's desk.

"Mmm hmmm," Ridcully said, picking it up. "Hmm. You're a rascal, aren't you, Throat? This has a very specific and subtle spell on it, did you know that, Pendragon?"

"I didn't detect anything specific," Howl said, a little uncertainly.

Ridcully waved a somewhat disparaging hand at him. "Oh, I'm not surprised. That's just because it's specific to you. Where'd you get this, Throat, eh? Who sold it to you?"

Dibbler's teeth were chattering. "I thinks I bought it offa girl name o' Della in a place called Lonnon."

Ridcully laughed. "You know a Della in Lonnon, Pendragon?"

"Um," Howl said.

"I knew it!" Sophie said.

"Notice any ill-effects, Pendragon?" Ridcully boomed.

"Like what?"

"I hate to say it in front of the lady."

"Say it, please," Sophie told Ridcully.

_Oh, no, not again_, Howl thought. _Not another one! _Dahlia/Delilah/Della/whatever-her-name hadn't seemed the vindictive sort. Though he _had_ left London rather precipitously. "Oh, no, nothing like that going on," he said aloud, waving a dismissive hand. At least, everything seemed to be working as well as ever. He wondered what the spell might be.

Sophie glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"All's well, then. For now," Ridcully laughed and set the purse back on his desk. "We'll take care of this. Ilivin's Fire oughta do it. We've already removed the spell from ol' Throat here. Demned youngsters and their _high-energy magic_," he said and shook his head.

"Cin I go?" Throat asked.

"Yes, yes, man, get out of here. Stay away from doors for awhile," Ridcully told him. Dibbler was up and out of the chair and out the door instantly, warning or no. Howl began to sigh with relief-- they were going home!-- but then Ridcully looked at him and shook his head. "As for you, my friend-- I'm afraid we'll have to arrest you for unauthorized use of magic. New era of cooperation between UU and the law, mind you. Can't let our first real perpetrator off too lightly, eh, what?"

"What?" Sophie cried.

"What?" Howl spat, feeling his new heart sink into his feet. This is what came of being _responsible_. "We were just returning him--"

"I know that," Ridcully said. "Thanks. But we can't just let rogue wizards pop in and out as they please, can we? We've finally got wizarding on this Disc all civilized, to the point where one can enjoy a good healthy meal without feeding it to the dog, first. We've gotta move with the times! You ain't the seventh son of a seventh son, by any chance, are you?"

"No," Howl said, not knowing what else to say in that moment.

"Good, good. Our special room oughta work, then. Don't worry, we'll feed you and all, though you don't look like you eat much. You may be here awhile. The Unlicensed Use of Magic Committee hasn't gotten around to drawing up the procedures and penalties yet. They keep taking snack breaks, eh, what? Never decide anything!" He chortled. "She a witch?"

"No!" Howl said. He'd had enough of this. Now was the time to try getting out of here. He grabbed Sophie's hand and waved his free one at the window, which flew open, blowing papers about the room. He started to take off, but then he felt a sharp, powerful pain at the base of his skull. Then he felt nothing.

**xxx**

**End Chapter 9. Hey, I had to mention those girls for a reason! ;)**

**Please comment, tell me what you think (good or bad). I at least love to know if people are reading.**

**Going to Worldcon so I may not update before I go; but I warn you that the next part's really nice and gooey. Gooey in my way, anyway. (The gooey parts are my favorites, besides the Nobby Nobbs and Librarian parts.)**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this; it is purely for fun.


	10. A Vile Seducer of Women

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 10: A Vile Seducer of Women

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall, averaged out I think

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**Back from Worldcon. And I warned you this chapter was gooey. Hey, this is humor/adventure/_romance_, after all. I think we're still in PG-13 land here, however. **

**xxx**

Chapter 10: A Vile Seducer of Women

Sophie re-wet a damp cloth in the basin of cold water she'd begged off of the wizards, and then kneeled on the floor next to the couch where Howl was stretched out. He still hadn't awoken. Sophie clucked her tongue as she felt the knot forming under his damp hair. She bunched up the cool towel beneath it, hoping it might help reduce the swelling. Those wizards had assured her Howl would be all right; if he wasn't, they were going to answer for it.

She decided to try something new. She dribbled a little of the icy water over his forehead, and was rewarded with a small, pathetic moan. So she splashed him with a little more. He probably deserved it. _Della in London, indeed._ The purse had been a curse after all, although what kind, she still did not know. Howl never would take actual blame for anything. But it was still partially Sophie's fault for buying it in the first place. She wiped most of the water from his face.

"Pteh," Howl sputtered. It was a pathetic little sputter, but at least he was sputtering.

"Hello, Howl," she said, smiling down at him.

"Sophie," he whispered, and opened his eyes a crack. "Are we home?"

"No," she had to tell him. "We're still at Unseen University, unfortunately."

"Bleh." He opened his eyes a little more. Tiny red lines spiraled out from the blue of his irises, and dark smudges lurked under his eyes. He must have one nasty headache, thought Sophie, with a twinge of pity building behind her ribcage. He looked pale, awful. It was the worst she'd ever seen him look, when he wasn't covered in green slime, that was. Yet he still managed to look pretty darn good.

"Poor Howl," she said, adjusting the wet towel beneath his head and then brushing the black hair from his forehead with gentle fingers, and untangling it from his jeweled earring. "It's probably not often that you get hit, is it?"

"No." Howl said, then tried to sit up too quickly. His face turned a shade of pale green and he dropped back to the couch. "Who did it?"

"It was the Special Constable, though they just call him the Librarian here. It's what he does."

"That, and hit people when their backs are turned," Howl said with weak scorn.

"He was very sorry about it," she told him.

"What did he say to you? _Ook_?"

"Well, yes," Sophie had to admit. "But it was an _ook_ that said, he regretted having to do that but he _is_ adjunct to the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, after all, and was only doing his job. I think he actually likes you."

"No, he likes you. Everyone likes _you_, Sophie." Howl looked so despondent as he said it that it almost wasn't a compliment. But Sophie was feeling so tenderly towards him at the moment, she took it as one anyway and kissed him on the cheek. Her stomach growled and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She hadn't eaten all day.

Howl gave a dramatic sigh, then waved a hand about the room. "I don't suppose I can use magic in here, can I? Nope. What a mess." With a little more caution the second time, he raised himself to a sitting position and stared around a bit. "Couldn't they have given us a little more furniture, at least?"

Sophie looked around with her own sigh. Pretty much she, Howl, the couch, a lantern, and a few ugly old paintings were the only things in the room. "I don't think they actually expected to ever put anyone in here," she told him.

Howl's reddened eyes widened. "Hey, and I'm taking up the whole couch. Let me move over." He shoved himself against the other end, taking the towel with him, and patted the damp spot where his head had lain.

Sophie didn't object, just picked herself up from the floor and sat.

Howl looked around some more, wincing with every movement of his head. "How long will we be here, I wonder? Would they let me have a bath, do you think? And where are we supposed to sleep, anyway? And I can't believe they put you in here, too." Then his eyes filled with a coy look, one that seemed to realize, _hey, we're alone at last_. He looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to give up his pathetic air to pursue it.

Sophie rolled her eyes back at him. Howl thought he was so sly. After the giant tantrum Sophie had thrown, convincing those fusty old wizards to let her in here. "I insisted," she said. Then she added, "for a city with a _Guild of Seamstresses_ they're awfully old-fashioned."

A _fzzzting_ sound from the other side of the room cut off any reply Howl might have made. Tiny bolts of lightning formed around the door, causing its outline to glow for a moment. Then it opened.

A young wizard, one of the teenagers with the wispy little beards, stuck a tentative head around the door. His pointy, star-patterned hat drooped over his spotty forehead. "Uh. Hello, Miss Sophie. Are you two hungry?"

"No," said Howl.

"Yes," said Sophie. Her stomach growled again.

"Oh. Okay," the boy said, then turned to speak to someone outside the door. "You can come in, Mizz Smith."

A largish woman in a maidservant's clothing carried in a tray with mounds of food on it. She ogled Howl, smiled at Sophie, and deposited the tray on the floor. "Ere you goes," she said, winked at Howl for good measure, then waddled out. The door _fzzzted_ shut.

Howl tested the room for magic-blocking spells again, found them in place, then sighed and collapsed once more, head drooping in Sophie's lap. "I can't possibly eat," he said.

"I can," Sophie told him, and removed his head from her thigh so she could sit on the floor with the food. It looked and smelled delicious. It was no surprise, really-- the wizards here certainly _looked_ like they ate well. And Sophie had eaten no breakfast _or_ lunch. She devoured some potatoes and chicken and vegetables while Howl moaned on the couch. There were also two slices of a lovely apple pie. Sophie ate every crumb of one of them.

"Are you going to eat this? It's very good," she told Howl, holding up the other slice of pie.

"Eh," said Howl.

"Fine," said Sophie, and proceeded to eat the second piece of pie as well. She guzzled an entire glass of ale to wash it down.

When she was finished her dress was too tight to sit comfortably on the floor. So she lifted Howl's head from the now-dry side of the couch, sat down, and deposited his head back onto her lap. Her eyes drooped shut and she relaxed with a full, happy sigh.

At some point in her half-doze Howl must have gotten bored with being injured, for she felt his head leave her lap, and felt also his eyes upon her. Sophie glanced over to see what he was doing. He had his head propped on one palm, and was giving her one of _those_ stares, the ones that made her stomach feel all fluttery.

"It's too bad we're in all this trouble, but I'm glad you're here," he told her. His gaze caressed her face, her chin, her shoulders.

The old Sophie would have blushed and stammered. But this Sophie was full of food, relaxed by the ale, and content with being in love with such a handsome wretch. "I'm glad too," she said and stretched out a hand to him. "Imagine poor Howl, here all by himself."

"I know." He used her grip to pull himself next to her, and slipped his other hand around the tight waist of her gown. It said something for Sophie's mood that she didn't even object to that. Content, relaxed Sophie sort of just melted onto him, and wasn't the least shy about how much she wanted to be kissed.

It was very nice, too. One of those slow, searching kisses she'd learned from him. "You taste like apples," Howl told her after a while, with a grin in his voice.

"You really should have had some pie," she said, winding her fingers in his soft hair, and being careful not to scratch the knot on his skull.

"_Mrf_ _rth dis_," Howl said, kissing her again, more enthusiastically than before. Sophie threw herself into it at least as enthusiastically. It was wonderful, to just let things happen as they would, to be the focus of all his attention, to enjoy the intimacy of it without any thought of stopping.

She didn't know how long that lasted, only that it was a long time. At some point every part of her that pressed against him was warm and shivery, and she couldn't bear to be so far from him, and at some other point she crawled onto his lap.

There had been kisses, but never before had Sophie let things progress to the point where Howl, or she, was quite this breathless and desperate. It was a revealing experience, coming up for air now and then to feel his lips trailing those lovely paths along her jawline, and the breath in her ear that made her tingle all over with every heave of his lungs. She found she couldn't stop touching him; she let her hands caress his chest through the thin blue fabric of his shirt, and felt the furious thump of his heart. _That was for her_. It was glorious and gratifying, and Sophie wondered why she'd ever been so worried about being this close. Howl was so very good at it.

"Sophie!" he said after a long while, with such breathless exclamation in his voice. "Please don't ever leave me."

An ache grew in Sophie's chest and expanded; she couldn't imagine why he was asking such a thing. _Had he actually thought-_- well, she supposed she could see how he could have. Such an indecisive person she must have seemed. _Poor Howl_. The ache crawled throughout her limbs and pooled in a throbbing mess somewhere below her belly. "I love you," she told him.

"I mean it," he said, grasping her face in his hands, nose touching hers. "Don't ever leave me. I couldn't bear it."

Howl always said things sideways. But Sophie heard what he didn't say aloud. It was irresistible. "I won't," she told him, and went without air for a while longer.

For Sophie had already decided that when they got home to the castle, if they _ever_ got home, she was going to lock him in his bedroom. From the inside.

He was biting her earlobe again. _Scratch that_, they were locked in _here_.

"Don't know what spell Ridcully was talking about," Howl mumbled at one point. "I'm fine."

Sophie didn't ask, and things sort of evolved to a really happy level after that. In fact, Howl had just managed to get them both stretched out on the couch, and was doing some very surprising and thrilling things with his clever hands, when the door _fzzzted_ again.

A moment of stillness lapsed, and then Howl sprang up and away to the opposite side of the couch. Sophie sat up just as quickly and tried to straighten her gown.

"Argh!" Howl muttered. "_Interruption_. That _must_ be it!"

"What?" Sophie asked, still a bit breathless and dazy.

But Howl didn't answer, as the door lit up again around the edges and swung open partway to admit a thin face. It was the teenaged wizard who'd come earlier with Sophie's dinner. He was joined by a few friends, other adolescents wearing pointy hats and spots, poking their heads through the cracked door.

"We're coming in," one of them said.

"Fine!" spat Howl.

The group, four of them, traipsed in on tiptoe and then shut the door quietly behind them. Three of the newcomers shuffled their feet a bit and stared at the floor. The one they'd met before finally spoke up.

"We can get you out of here. But there's a price," he said, voice shaking.

"Fine," Howl said again. He didn't much sound like he wanted to leave, but he may have been warming to the idea. Home sounded like a mostly wonderful thing to Sophie. She just wished somewhat that home had maybe come a _little bit_ later.

"Teach us how to get girls," one of the other young men said.

"You're kidding," Howl said.

But Sophie didn't think they were kidding at all. Wizards here in this world were not the handsomest of specimens. They were the pale, flabby type who rarely went outdoors in daylight. Even Corporal Nobby Nobbs had been surprised to see a wizard accompanied by a female. She could well imagine how desperate they must be. She sympathized with them a lot, in fact.

"No!" one of the others said, sounding a bit offended. "We mean it. Tell us how to get girls," here he nodded at Sophie, "and we'll sneak you out. _That_, we're really good at."

Howl, changeable in mood as ever, began to grin. Then he laughed. Sophie rolled her eyes at him, but he was apparently too amused to heed her.

"I can do _that_," he said.

He asked for paper, quill and ink and among the four young wizards, they managed to scavenge those items from their robes. Howl gestured them over into a group, and wrote some strange symbols on the paper with numbers lined up next to them. It looked like some sort of arcane recipe to Sophie. There was a lot of whispering. There was also a lot of male snickering. It was disgusting. When Howl was done, whatever it was he'd written, the young wizards were satisfied. _No, they were smug_.

"All right men, let's go," their first young man said to the others. He turned to Howl and Sophie. "You'll have to be quiet."

Howl and Sophie nodded, both as silent as the grave. Hand in hand, they followed the group through the door and then through a wall or two-- apparently some of the hallways at old UU were there just for show-- and soon they all stood outside. The wizards led them to a wall at the edge of the courtyard and removed a number of loose bricks.

"We sneak out to go drinking sometimes," one of them told Howl.

Howl gave him one of those man-to-man nods of understanding.

"Once you're through, you can pretty much use any spell you want to go home," one of the others said.

"Thanks," Howl told them. He grinned at Sophie and clasped her fingers to draw her through the hole in the wall.

Sophie didn't feel safe letting Howl use magic until they'd walked a good few blocks from the University. "I guess there are good things about being a vile seducer of women, after all," Sophie told him once they were a decent distance away. Her voice may have been a bit snippy, but she couldn't be sure.

"Hah." Howl had the good sense to look abashed. "I'm not vile. I'm also not much of a seducer, either. Apparently." His laugh was slightly bitter. _Interruption spell_,_ a nasty one,_ he seemed to mumble to himself. "Of course, it's late. Surely everyone will be asleep at home?"

Sophie agreed with the sentiment. She quivered and ached all over at the thought of being alone with Howl at home, and it was a good ache. Love was an awful thing, in so many very different ways. "Can we go home _now_?" she asked.

"Let's," Howl said, and drew a circle in the air with his finger, and then stepped forward, pulling Sophie along. She stepped through nothing, felt her stomach drop again, and they left Ankh-Morpork where it belonged, behind them.

**xxx**

End Chapter 10.

Just a couple chapters to go; hopefully I can get it finished soon! **Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Concrit is absolutely welcomed.**


	11. Sparkly Fire Ex Machina

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 11: Sparkly Fire Ex Machina

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall, averaged out I think

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Sophie is less mixed up now. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**A little bit shorter chapter, but I've changed my mind about later stuff so it'll be a couple more chapters before the end. Sometimes the story writes itself. Thanks for hanging in there! **

**xxx**

Chapter 10: Sparkly Fire Ex Machina

Howl brought them through the 'door' directly onto the balcony-yard of his flying castle. He took a brief moment to congratulate himself silently on his returned wizarding skills. They were home! He'd been so fevered and loopy for the last hour that he hadn't been absolutely sure he could accomplish the task of getting them here. It might have had something to do with being knocked on the head, but Howl suspected it had much more to do with Sophie.

He looked down at her, standing beside him. She looked up. They didn't go inside, just stood out in the cold, staring at each other like idiots.

Sophie's hair shone in the dark, pale as the damp clouds that passed around and through them. Something had changed about her, in Ankh-Morpork. Her sweetly stubborn independence had come full-circle, or something, and she was in charge here. Whatever she wanted, he would give her. Her little hands had a careful grip on his heart, as they had for months.

What did she want? Time to decide? She'd seemed pretty damned decisive, in Ankh-Morpork. He'd waited in that little room for a halt that had not come-- well, from Sophie, anyway-- and now he was off-kilter, unsure.

Sophie stepped closer, decisive once more. Howl was still careful; he let his hands run over her, let them remember the shape of her and the way she breathed. Then he pulled her close, as close as could be. Making sure she understood just how much he wanted her.

She didn't back away, and her breath formed little misty clouds of white as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

She'd said she wouldn't leave him. And Sophie nearly always told the complete truth, when it was really important. He loved her so very much, if love felt like being punched in the stomach. Or if it made one feel that the blood was rushing so madly through one's veins that the flesh was unable to cope; the flesh must fall.

She made the most extraordinary little noises. That grass over there looked nice and soft--

The door was opening. That purse had _definitely_ carried an interruption spell, Howl decided with a sort of nihilistic resignation

"Sophie! Master Howl! You're back!"

"Well, look, if it isn't the sleeping princess, being kissed awake at last."

"Huh?" This was Markl again.

He would never be alone with Sophie again Howl thought. What he said aloud was, "hello, everyone," complete with the falsest smile he could muster.

"Hello Markl, Granny," said Sophie, releasing Howl and turning towards the door. She didn't sound upset in the least, though she did pat his arm in her best consoling manner. "Is Heen all right? I didn't hurt him earlier, did I?"

That was Sophie, always caring. The dog, hearing his name, followed Markl and Wilhelmina out the door, wagging his tail and wheezing with glee. And yes, to make the crowd complete, there was Calcifer, hovering over Markl's head.

"You were gone all day, Sophie!" Markl cried.

"You left everything here, Howl," Calcifer said.

"I know!" Howl said with a sigh. There was still so much to deal with. _Dammit_.

Wilhelmina laughed. "You should be in bed, Markl," she said. "I'm going to stay out here and watch the ice melt."

"Huh?" from Markl again.

"You're always so cynical, Granny," Sophie told the old lady with a kiss on the cheek.

Howl waved his arms. If they all had to gather _right now_, and if he had work to do while they gathered, then he'd prefer to do it somewhere comfortable. "It's cold out here. Why don't we just go inside, and Sophie will tell everyone all about it?"

"Did you bring me anything?" Wilhelmina asked, shuffling through the door.

"No! But we did run into one of your little sabotages," Howl told her with narrowed eyes. Her, at least, he could be cross with. "To punish you, I won't even tell you any more about it."

"Whatever it was, I'm sure it happened a long time ago," Wilhelmina snorted. "If you can be forgiven, then so can I."

"Can we just go inside, please?" _Wheeze_. "Thank you, Heen."

At last they all bundled in the door. Calcifer jumped into his grate, crackling the logs and filling the room with warmth. Howl could see everything was as they'd left it-- the circle on the floor around the chair, all of Dibbler's junk piled on his kitchen table. The room still smelled faintly of sausage.

"You'd better go search W-- _Granny's_ room, Markl," Howl told the boy. "We'll need to get rid of absolutely everything, or this whole trip was for nothing."

"And Sophie calls _me_ cynical," Wilhelmina said, laughing again. "I haven't got anything."

"We _have_ heard that before, Granny," Sophie reminded her. _Good for Sophie!_ At least someone was taking Howl's side.

"I don't have anything. Really. All that man's stuff is junk, anyway," the old lady said.

"Where did you go, Sophie?" Markl wanted to know.

Sophie set out the teacups and started some water to boil, then sat down at the kitchen table with Wilhelmina and Markl to tell them about Ankh-Morpork. Howl knelt down at the grate to talk to Calcifer.

"The wizard there said Illivin's Fire. When he said fire, I thought, Calcifer's the demon to talk to." It never hurt to butter up Calcifer; Howl had learned that from Sophie. "Can you help me with that one?"

Calcifer looked a little smug. "Hmmm... is that the blue one with all the sparkly lights?"

"Yep."

"Got a little curse to get rid of too, then, don't you?"

"Maybe." _Damn Calcifer_. Howl's mood was deteriorating moment by moment. Not only was he having to put up with sauce from everyone, but this job would most likely take hours. If he did it thoroughly; that was, if he included setting the spell to locate all the other items that might be scattered around Ingary, and then destroying them right where they were, whether lying on a table or walking around Kingsbury in someone's pocket or handbag. That would take finesse. He wasn't sure he had the patience right then for finesse. But he was determined to finish the job. He had to finish _something_, or he would go mad.

At least Calcifer seemed to feel like being helpful. The tops of his flames snapped, throwing little sparks into the air. "Bring 'em on," he said.

"That's a good fire."

"Don't push it, Howl."

"And there was a large orange ape who was a wizard _and_ a policeman!" Sophie was telling Markl and Wilhelmina. Thankfully, from what Howl was hearing, she also knew what parts to leave out of the story. "He was very nice. Usually. He had the most interesting ways of saying _ook_."

Howl began grabbing Dibbler's stuff from end of the table where the others had pushed it. From what he could tell, it _looked _like everything was there. He eyed the chair, and wondered if that was tainted and should go as well. Then he shrugged. He could always make a new chair. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and went to work. Everything was piled on the chair-- the odd black-and-glass boxes, the other horrible little items with pictures of Mary Lynn Monner on them. Dibbler's stick with the jangling bits all over it he propped against the chair. Howl had to wipe his hands after he'd touched that.

A few more drawings on the floor and soon Howl was engrossed, to good effect. Howl would whip up a spell in the air and Calcifer would give it a good shot of flame to ignite it. Thankfully, the blue sparkly Illivin's fire worked on the items in his kitchen. Once he finally got rid of them, the smell of sausage vanished.

"Oh! You wouldn't believe the wizards in Ankh-Morpork," Howl thought he heard Sophie say at one point. "They all have beards and wear pointy hats. Except for the ape I mentioned, of course. But that's how you know they're wizards, there. I think. And one of them told me that the entire point of going to Unseen University is learn how _not_ to use magic. Isn't that odd?"

_Odd is right_, thought Howl, idly. He hadn't remembered hearing that. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious and just how many wizards Sophie had chatted with during that time. It had probably been she who'd initially charmed those hormonal youngsters who had set him and Sophie free.

"Not to use magic? But that's _dumb_," Markl said.

"You got that right, kid. Sounds like a stupid idea to me, too," Wilhelmina said. "Were any of 'em good-looking?"

"Well..." Sophie said. "I wouldn't say _handsome_, precisely."

Howl and Calcifer kept working. The location spell took much longer since it was for an unknown number of items. Thankfully, it seemed, Dibbler hadn't sold too many knickknacks before Howl and Sophie had caught him.

The other worlds Dibbler had passed through-- Howl could do nothing about them. They, and whatever wizards they possessed, were on their own.

Time passed. Things grew quiet around him. Howl was concentrating so hard on finishing the damn job-- and _focusing_ on it as he'd been told to-- that he hardly noticed when Sophie kissed his cheek. She said something, and he said _okay_, took a second to wonder what she'd said, and then had to concentrate some more. People bought the strangest things, and stashed them in the strangest places.

But when he and Calcifer were finally done, Howl was pretty darned confident that all the trinket-stragglers were taken care of. The unlucky temporary owners, Dibbler's customers, shouldn't even wake to find scorch spots on their tables or clothing. Howl was _that good_.

He set his hands on his hips and closed his eyes to gloat for a few moments. He wondered whether he should send a snarky note to Suliman. Maybe he'd write one line only: "Done with Everything. H." Or maybe it should just say "Done." And should he sign it, "Love, H.?" just to be ironic? _Nah_, he ultimately decided. Suliman would only laugh, and he didn't feel like giving her any reason for amusement.

Howl opened his eyes and looked around the castle kitchen. The smell of sausage wasn't the only thing that had vanished. Everyone else had vanished, also. At some point Granny, and even Markl, who should have at least offered to help, had gone to bed.

And _Sophie_ was gone also. Howl could hardly believe it. She hadn't even waited for him to be finished. _So it was late morning, already_-- big deal. She could have at least waited a few hours for him, after all they'd been through.

Or at least she could have made breakfast.

Howl had been abandoned. He was cranky, lonely, and tired. The near-afternoon sun was shining happy yellow beams through the Kingsbury window. Even the weather wouldn't cooperate with his mood.

"Well, I guess I'm the only one who cares, then," Howl whined, to no one in particular.

"Don't know why you're telling me," Calcifer said in a sleepy voice.

"Grrr," Howl said. He briefly considered taking a bath. Then he had a better idea.

He stomped to the door, and turned the knob to yellow. Sunny. _Ick_. He tried blue. A few rain-splatters hit the window.

"Perfect," he said. He opened the door, went out, and slammed it behind him.

**xxx**

End Chapter 11

**Like I mentioned, the ending has changed and so chapter 12 is being re-written. I'm a pretty fast writer, though. For good or bad. ;) PLEASE share your thoughts or comments, good or bad!**

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this; it is purely for fun.


	12. Summonses and Assurances

**Title:** An Awful Thing Chapter 12: Summonses and Assurances

**By:** Jedishampoo (Jedishampoo at aol dot com)

**Rating:** PG-13 overall

**Summary:** Howl and Sophie get mixed up in magical and dimensional doings, and Howl is the one who's just mixed up. Humor/Adventure/Romance thingie. Crossover between Howl's Moving Castle and Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_.

**Author's Notes:** This is movieverse!Howl and company. I've read the books by Diana Wynne Jones, and so a little bookishness may creep in here and there, but the movie is what made me fall in love with the characters. Comments, constructive criticism eagerly welcomed.

**So I lied last time. I had to make some adjustments to the story and this is actually the last chapter. I wanted to do everything from here on out in Sophie's POV since I started out in Howl's, and once the 'adventure' was over there was only the romantic stuff to be taken care of. Still firmly in PG-13 land.**

**xxx**

**Chapter 12: Summonses and Assurances**

Sophie awoke, stretched, then snuggled back into the pillow. The gold-tasseled pillow. Her eyes flew open. The light in the room was wrong. It wasn't a misty, cheerful, morning sort of light, but a darkish, afternoon thunderstorm-y sort of light. And it wasn't her room, it was Howl's. _She was in Howl's bed._

A little _zing_ of nervous embarrassment fled through her body, and she sat up. Yes, she was definitely in Howl's bed. But there was no Howl.

Sophie peeked around the room with careful deliberation to make sure he wasn't hiding somewhere among the junk, watching. But she was alone. The only eye looking at her was that eerie blinky thing on the back of his bedroom door.

She remembered coming in here, and sitting down, but not falling asleep. She jumped out of the bed and opened the door. All was dark and quiet in the hallway. The bathroom door stood open and there was a distinct lack of perfumed steam, so she could safely deduce that Howl wasn't in there, either.

The kitchen was empty except for Calcifer, making crackling little snore-noises in the grate.

"Calcifer!" Sophie whispered, then felt foolish for doing so in what was obviously late afternoon. She cleared her throat. "Where's Howl?"

"Out," Calcifer told her, yellow demon-eyes popping open.

"Out? You're kidding." Sophie could hardly believe it. _The jerk_. She checked the dial. Blue. So he was somewhere in the Waste. A pattering on the windows told her it was raining there.

"Don't tell me you're surprised that _Howl's_ gone out," Calcifer said in a wry tone.

"Hmph," Sophie replied. She grabbed the kettle from where it had been left on the table last night-- this morning-- filled it, then flung it onto the grate. "Gone _out_. Hmph."

"He didn't seem happy," Calcifer offered in a helpful tone.

"So?"

"So, he was whining about being the only one who cared. I don't know what he was talking about, but that's nothing new."

"Huh." Now Sophie was curious. "That's odd. I thought he'd be _happy_-- well, when did you finish your magic-making?"

"Oh, a few hours ago. Just before Howl left, I think."

"Oh." Sophie thought hard. Howl _had_ been concentrating very intensely when she'd whispered her idea to him. Perhaps he hadn't heard? She'd gone up early because she'd wanted a chance to freshen herself up for-- well-- and Howl had only said "okay." But had it been a distracted "okay" or a paying-attention "okay?"

A little effort from Calcifer set the water in the kettle to boiling. Sophie dropped in some tea and sat down to wait for it to brew. She was restless. She got up again and fetched clean cups in case Granny or Markl awoke soon. Someone had done all the dishes from the day before, so there really wasn't anything else to do. She wasn't sure she was in the mood to clean, but she was in the mood to do _something_.

Something came in the form of a series of little raps upon the door. Sophie jumped up from her seat and checked to be sure her robe was fastened properly. It must be a customer; Howl wouldn't bother knocking.

"It's the Kingsbury door," Calcifer told her with a yawn.

Sophie opened the door and gaped, then scowled. A trim pre-adolescent dressed in a green-and-pink uniform and sporting perfectly-groomed blonde hair grinned up at her from the doorstep. It was one of Madame Suliman's little lackeys. His white-gloved hand held out a folded piece of paper sealed with blood-red wax.

"You! What do _you_ want?" Sophie asked. She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care.

"Good afternoon, ma'am!" the boy said with a perky white-toothed smile. "I have a summons from Her Eminence, Madame Suliman."

A summons? _Not in this lifetime._ Sophie scowled harder and crossed her arms across her midriff. "I'm sorry-- well actually I'm not-- but please remind _Her Eminence_ that I said yesterday that Howl was to answer no more of her summonses, and I meant it."

"Oh, no, ma'am. The summons is for Mrs. Pendragon. You, I believe?"

"I am not Mrs. Pendragon. I am Miss Hatter." Sophie tossed her head, wishing her hair was still long so as to be more dramatic in these types of situations.

"She said you'd say that, ma'am." If possible, the boy's grin had only grown more cheeky. It set Sophie's teeth on edge. "But it _is_ for you."

"Well, I don't want it, either."

"She said you'd say that, too." The boy waved the paper at her. "And in that case, I was to simply give this to you. She said you'd want it, whether you came or not."

Sophie wasn't so sure, but she swiped it from his white-gloved hand anyway, and tucked it under her arm. If she refused it, she'd wonder for weeks what had been in it. "Fine. Thank you. Goodbye!"

"Thank _you_, ma'am!" the boy said, gave her a perky bow, then bounced off.

"Grrr," Sophie said. She wondered briefly whether or not she should have Howl take a look at the letter, check it for magic, before she opened it. Then she shrugged. It _was_ addressed to her, sort of. And at least she now had something to do other than wonder about Howl and where he was and why he was being such an ass. She sat down again and used her fingernail to open the seal.

It was a very short note, in curlicued handwriting. "_Tell Howl thank you_," it read, and was signed _Mme. B. Suliman_. There was a postscript. Sophie read it, and laughed.

"What is it?" Calcifer wanted to know.

"Actually, it is rather funny, in an awful way," Sophie said.

"What?"

Sophie only laughed again, and went upstairs to get dressed.

Outside, the heavy skies had greyed and blurred their verdant little corner of the Wastes. All the flowers were drooping their heads under the weight of the rain, their colors muted and subtle. Sophie wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself and angled her umbrella to keep the fat raindrops from splashing on her face. Howl had to be out there somewhere, she knew.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of tromping in the boot-sucking mud, she spotted him. He was stretched out under a tree, one of the wide, spreading shade trees they'd added to the valley at her request. The toes of his shoes pointed up, and one blue-sleeved arm was draped across his eyes. He hadn't even bothered to change before he'd gone out into the rain to sulk. Sophie knew he must be in a _very_ bad mood.

She stood over his tragic, supine form for a few moments before she spoke.

"Was your magic not successful, Howl?"

Howl mumbled something indecipherable in reply.

"What?" Sophie asked.

"I _said_, 'does it matter?'" Howl told her. He hadn't even uncovered his eyes.

Sophie sighed, and smiled to herself. At least Howl'd had the sense to put himself under a tree. She eyed the slick, grassy ground, and her muddy boots.

She shrugged. She was wearing an old dress. Dropping the umbrella, she eased herself into a stretched-out position beside Howl. Propped on one elbow-- which sank through the grass into the ground-- she stared at him. She watched the water droplets fall from the leaves above, plopping onto what was exposed of his face, then roll down his cheeks into the collar of his shirt.

After a few silent minutes of this Howl lifted his arm an inch or two to peep at her out of the corner of one eye.

"Are you trying to make me feel dumb?" he said.

"Why didn't you come upstairs?" Sophie asked in reply.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

Sophie didn't answer. She stretched out her free hand to run it along his ribs. His shirt was sopping wet. It looked good on him, though. She smoothed the wet material across his breastbone, remembering for a moment the cool, fluttery lump of Calcifer mixed with Howl's heart as she'd pressed it through his chest. Then she ran her palm down onto his flat stomach. _Like he would have eaten breakfast, anyway_. She felt him catch his breath, just a little.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked.

"Poor Howl," Sophie said, then pushed herself up a bit, just enough so that she could move his arm and kiss him. His lips were cool and wet. Her elbow sank another couple of inches into the mud.

Howl kissed her back for a moment or two, then used gentle fingers to pry his wrist free. He sat up and looked at her with confused blue eyes. A fat, cold raindrop splashed into her eye, making her wince. Howl grabbed her umbrella and shoved the handle into the ground, propping it over her face like a shield, then plopped back down with a little splash.

"_Poor Howl_ is right," he said, in a long-suffering tone. "Everyone left me."

"I was in _your _room," Sophie informed him. "I fell asleep, though. I didn't mean to."

"Blue sparkly fire didn't work, then," Howl said in a forlorn sort of voice.

Sophie thought she knew what he meant, but was determined to make him wait a few more minutes before she solved everything for him. He rather deserved it. But it was cold, and muddy. So she crawled over to snuggle on top of him. Two sets of wet clothes didn't create much warmth, and zero dryness, but he was much more comfortable than the ground. She kissed his wet lips again. _That was better_.

"Sophie!" Howl said after a few minutes. "You've been acting very strangely lately."

She was sure she had. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked his jeweled earlobe.

"No," he said with a cough. "But it won't matter. Someone or some_thing_ will come along any moment, I'm sure."

"Nope. We're alone out here," Sophie said to his nose. She shifted her body, adjusting to a more comfortable position splayed out atop him. Some very interesting things were happening along in there. And she was very definitely warmer.

"Then the ground will open up and swallow us or something. I've seen that happen."

"I was there," Sophie told him, reaching down to run her fingers up under the edge of his shirt, feeling the warm, damp skin of his stomach. Howl caught his breath again, and there were some more of those interesting sensations down below. Sophie felt very wanton, and very powerful in a womanly sort of way. She decided to end his suffering. "I got a note from Madame Suliman. Do you want to know what it said?"

"Suliman," Howl sighed. "Not really."

Sophie slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "It said, 'subtle paranoia curse, in case you were wondering.' Her words, not mine."

Howl didn't reply for a few moments, just moved his lips silently. Then he whistled softly and gave her a wry half-grin. "Basic spell. Nasty, though. Even when it's gone, you're never sure that it is." But he looked infinitely more cheerful than he had only a minute ago. Sophie felt rather ashamed of herself for teasing him. _Slightly ashamed_.

"Interesting how it manifested itself for you," she told him, kissing his chin. "Want to see if it's really gone?"

Sophie felt his warm hands on her waist, and saw his expression grow quite interested. But after a moment or two, caution crawled into his eyes. "Not here. It's sort of cold, wet, and--" here he lifted a blue and brown-splattered arm, "--muddy. It would be very unfair of me."

"I think it's rather romantic," Sophie told him. In addition to feeling wanton and powerful she felt very foolish, and yet very free from all her former insecurity. It was a heady combination. Love was an awful sort of emotion; it was every other feeling wrapped into one at once. Some of those feelings hurt, and some were euphoric, but love at its best always felt like it was worth all of the worst.

"And here I thought you were practical," Howl said, a naughty grin curling across his lips, and an expression that was becoming more and more interested by the moment. "So don't blame me, later."

"I won't."

………

Later, Sophie couldn't say that it hadn't hurt a little, and that it hadn't perhaps been a bit more gooey than it should have been, what with the mud and all, or that she hadn't had to soak in a hot bath for an hour to rid herself of the dirt and aches. But she could say that they hadn't been interrupted, and she'd enjoyed herself in a very romantic and womanly manner.

And she also _could_ say that the next time her mother or sister asked her those pointed questions about getting married, Sophie thought she might have an answer for them. All in all, it seemed, in the end that assurance was much better at making Howl happy than gaudy gifts and civic responsibility.

Men were very simple creatures.

**xxx**

**THE END. **

**I ultimately decided against explicitness for this story, really, lemon's not right for these characters, is it:) Thanks to everyone for sticking it through, especially to my beta sharpeslass, who is not an HMC fanatic like myself. She begged for the ellipses at the end there, though I was loath to insert them.**

**If you've read this far, please comment, tell me what you thought, good or bad! **

**Disclaimer:** HMC characters owned by Diana Wynne Jones and/or Studio Ghibli; Discworld characters owned by Terry Pratchett. I made no money writing this; it is purely for fun.


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